


It can't rain everyday.

by OwlAlly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Parenting, Hurt Stiles, Lonely Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Nice Peter, Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski Feels, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 09:18:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11986821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlAlly/pseuds/OwlAlly
Summary: “Get out! Get the fuck out of my house !”The words still echo in Stiles’ head.“Get out”





	It can't rain everyday.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. Just posting this really quickly because it was waiting alone in an abandonned folder. I recieved a lot of comments on my others stories, "Growing desperate from the fight" and "You should have listenned". I know that they haven't been updated for a long time, but I haven't given them up yet. It's just that I've lost my muse a little. Anyway ! This one was written a long tome ago and is now seeing the world for the first time. Hope you enjoy, please leave a comment and kudos if you liked it ! Bye bye !

“Get out! Get the fuck out of my house !”

The words still echo in Stiles’ head.

“Get out”

 

His breathing quickens. He stares at the closed door, his heart beating loud in his hears, way too loud. His father just threw him out. Out of their home. Because of fucking Scott. And Derek. Fucking werewolves. They just had to tell him didn’t they? He fucking told them not to, begged them even. But no. No, stiles was just the stupid kid, the useless ADHD human who was too much of a moron to know that the Sheriff would not take the news of his town being infested by supernatural creatures well. Because, of course, Stiles wouldn’t know what reaction his own father would have would he?

 

And there he was. Outside, behind a locked door. What now? His father was so mad. Sure, they had had fights. But never that bad. And he certainly had never been thrown out of his own fucking house.

 

He sent a glance to the jeep. His keys were inside, on his desk, next to his blue lamp. He would go by foot then.

 

Stiles turned his heels and began to walk away from his house. He had a fight with Scott too. He was so mad at the time, after Scott told him that he broke the news to his dad that he may have shouted to Scott that he was “an even bigger moron than his drunk of a father.” His jaw still ached from the punch he received, and the bruise was so big it was touching his nose.

 

So no, Scott house wasn’t an option. And Isaac was taking the guest room, so Melissa already had her hands full of broody and unoccupied teenagers.

 

School was closed, for the whole summer vacation.

 

Stiles then walked to Lydia’s. She would help him right? She may not like him, but she wouldn’t let him out in the streets. Full of hope, he knocked on her door.

 

Of course, fucking Jackson opened the door. And the douchebag immediately rolled his eyes.

 

“What do you want Stilinski?”

 

“Stiles?” Lydia said, as she came by Jackson’s side, sliding her arm against his waist.

 

“Hum... I just… I wanted to ask you... I needed to…”

 

“Stilinski, speak already ! It’s not like you have a problem with it usually.” Jacksass dramatically muttered.

 

Stiles glared at him.

 

“Hum, well…”

 

“Listen Stiles, I want to enjoy my holidays with my boyfriend okay? I don’t know if you’re aware, but we aren’t really friends. And I don’t want to see you more than I need to. We all need a break from the freak show that happened and I would love to enjoy a little bit a silence and calm. So I’ll see you at school okay ? Goodbye Stiles.”

 

And she closed the door.

 

That was the second time today that he almost took a door to the face.

 

He took a deep breath. Even though she had chosen Jackson, he knew a part of him would still like her. It was just one more rejection. Nothing he couldn’t deal with right? Still, she could have at least let him speak.

 

Staying in front of Lydia’s house wouldn’t do any good.

 

Feeling his heart growing heavier, he walked away, until he reached Beacon Hill’s Park, where he sat on the bench.

 

The sun was down, but there were still a few children and their parents playing around. Their laughs made him miss his mom. She loved to walk around the park during the summer too. She used to say that the evening was the only bearable moment of summer. She never liked being hot. She was born in the north, and was used to the cold, and the snow. She said it was in her blood. Stiles preferred the warm summer than having his butt wet. She would always laugh when he told her that.

 

She would have liked this summer. It wasn’t hot, not the way California was used to.

 

It wasn’t cold yet, but chilly, and Stiles shivered. He was just wearing a t-shirt.  He took out his cell phone, that he thankfully had in his jeans’ pocket, and searched in his contacts.

 

**TO DEREK :**

_Hey sourwolf, would you happen to have a tiny little place on your couch for me to crash on ?_

 

 **FROM DEREK** :

_No._

 

**TO DEREK :**

_Come on! Pretty please? :)_

 

**FROM DEREK :**

_No ask Scott._

 

**TO DEREK :**

_Scott sucks. You suck less_

 

**FROM DEREK :**

_Flattered, but still no._

 

**TO DEREK :**

_Come on! You wouldn’t let someone from you pack down would ya ? Furry instinct and all_

 

**FROM DEREK :**

_For pack I wouldn’t, but you’re not pack._

 

Oh. That, that stung. With everything he had done for them? Well, Fuck you too Derek. Stiles thought bitterly.

 

He called Allison next.

 

He was prepared, but to hear:

 

“Sorry Stiles. My father doesn’t really like you and I’m not with Scott anymore so…”

 

It still made him mad. He had tough that they had developed some kind of friendship. Who run back and forth for days when they couldn’t text? He had thought … Whatever.

 

Erica and Boyd were not an option. They didn’t like him. And after the little episode in Gerard’s basement… he was better off not seeing them.

 

He couldn’t ask his neighbour, Mrs. Gaddy, either. That old hag would gossip all around the town that the Sheriff was throwing his barely seventeen years old son out of their house. That could cost his dad his job.

 

He didn’t have a choice did he? He sighted before standing up and began his walk. He caught the bus, not paying, and got out half an hour later. He walked for ten minutes again, entered a building, took the elevator and knocked on the door of apartment 21.

 

It opened to reveal a frowning Peter Hale.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here.” He said.

 

“You know Peter, if you didn’t want to be found, maybe you shouldn’t rent under the name of “Peta Here”.  It as efficient to hide as shouting naked outside.” Stiles answered as he shouldered past him and into the apartment.

 

“I thought it was funny and besides, I didn’t expect YOU to search for me.”

 

Stiles shot him an incredulous look, as he was putting his shoes off.

 

“Really? Even Scott could follow that lead. Using the letters of your name and not changing the initials… you’re either losing it for real, or you did that on purpose for someone to find you if needed.”

 

“Derek never was the brightest.”

 

“How kind of you.” Stiles mocked him.

 

“Oh you know… family.” Peter Answered with a wide gesture.

 

“Right.” Stiles said.

 

“Anyway, mind explaining me what is your intention coming here, apart from invading my den with scents of badly washed teenager’s socks?”

 

“You, creepy uncle, are going to lend me your couch to crash on for a few days. Oh, and your clothes. And food. Man, I’m starving, what’s for dinner?”

 

“Annoying uninvited kids.”

 

“Funny. So? Which innocent woodland creature did you slaughtered and dragged down there, leaving bloody trails and missing organs everywhere?”

 

Peter raised an eyebrow.

 

“Pizza.”

 

“I’m impressed. No really, hunting such a large prey, that must ask some amount of braveness… Are you really up for the task? I mean, going to Walmart that’s… few came back.”

 

Peter rolled his eyes.

 

“I’m a lazy modern werewolf. I don’t need to stalk my prey, it comes at me on its own.” He sighted, waving his phone.

 

“Marvellous ! You’re an old hag anyway, you’re so slow I would have starved before you came back. Extra Cheese for me please.”

 

“As soon as you tell me why I have to bear with you.”

 

There was a silence, the first since Stiles arrived, and they glared at each other.

 

“It’s not supernatural related. Well, it is, but not in the usual way. I’m not putting you in danger for staying here.”

 

“Right” Peter said in a disbelieving tone, “because I wasn’t risking the Sheriff’s wrath enough as it is”

 

Stiles huffed. “Nothing you didn’t deserve. He’s in now, and as long as you lay low, he won’t come and find you.  Apparently, being burned almost to death twice and having your throat slashed means that you are a little less on the hook. Like, Karma did his job or whatever.”

 

“Is his introduction to our special world related to your presence here?”

 

“As bright as ever aren’t we? Won’t you call for the dam pizza already?” Stiles growled, done with the conversation.

 

“Yes, as soon as I’m sure your father won’t come here, guns blazing with the entire police department as a back up to save his idiotic son of the apex predator.”

 

“He threw me out ok? So no Peter, he won’t search for me for a while.” Stiles shouted, finally losing his cool.

 

“Oh.” Peter said. He frowned his brow suspiciously.

 

“And why am I the one you decided to run to?”

 

“You were not exactly my first choice you know.” Stiles snapped. “Not that I don’t enjoy your serial killer aura, but I kind of set you on fire once. I wasn’t really sure you had forgiven that foolishness yet. I kinda risked my throat there. Whatever. It appears to be that once you are in real need of help, you discover that friendship is a beautiful utopia and that reality is fucking shitty.”

 

He sighted, defeated. Maybe he could sleep on a bench in the park. Or under a bus stop.

 

“It may be stupid but I still haven’t lost my pride yet, and that bitch won’t let me beg to that extent, so tell me already if you plan to throw me out, I’ll show myself out.”

 

Peter didn’t answered Stiles for a long time, his eyes never leaving him, not even to blink. Finally, he let out a breath, raised his phone to his hear and asked:

 

“Extra Cheese you said?”

 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

 

Living with Peter was not as bad as Stiles had expected. He was neat, quiet and almost… nice. He let Stiles borrow his clothes, if the teen washed them. He shared his food, and even gave Stiles a pillow and a soft blanket. His rules were simple: keep it down, don’t enter my bedroom, clean after yourself and don’t tell anyone I live here. Nothing Stiles couldn’t follow, apart from the quiet part. Peter didn’t seem to mind much, since the teen was not beheaded yet.

 

The only problem Stiles had encountered up to now was the Adderall withdrawal, which had NOT been a fun moment. Peter had hovered above him for two days, waiting for him to stop shivering and sweating off the fever.

 

Overall, it worked fine. Peter was out most of the day – doing god knows what, Stiles hadn’t dared to ask – so Stiles was alone most of the time. He had the telly and could borrow Peter’s computer (The werewolf had clearly stated that if he was to smell anything strange and that his computer was infested of viruses he would cut the teen dick’s off. To which Stiles had answered that if he was to die of blue balls, it would be Peter’s fault. Nevertheless, the warning had kept him to even think about it so far.)

 

This routine went fine for a week, and Stiles had become quite used to sleeping without his Personal Pillow in his bedroom, which explained why he was so damn surprised when things when crashing down. The 9th day of his stay at Peter, he woke up to shouts and growls. He bolted out of the sofa, half asleep, wearing only his pants, and did a double take at what he saw.

 

Peter was hoisted up against the wall by… yep, that was Derek. The Alpha had claws and fangs out, eyes glowing a furious red, and his lips were torn up in a snarl. Behind him was his father, the gun out and pointed at Peter. The rest of the pack, composed of Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Erica, Boyd and Isaac, was right behind, waiting by the entry way.

 

Stiles reacted before thinking. He threw himself at Derek, shouting and hitting, while the sheriff was shouting his name.

 

“LET HIM GO! Release him Derek!” he screeched.

 

Derek, not at all affected by Stiles’ strength but more out of surprise, let Peter’s throat out of his fist and took a step back.

 

“Are you okay?” Stiles stressed, touching Peter’s shoulder and putting his hand on his chest. The oldest werewolf face was slowly turning back from its previous blueish colour and he cough violently.

 

“Well that went well.” He muttered, while everybody else began shouting.

 

“I knew you were a creep Peter but kidnapping teenagers really?” Derek spat.

 

“Stiles, are you hurt? Did he touched you?” his dad worried.

 

“Has Stilinski developed Stockholm syndrome already?” Jackson laughed, the ass.

 

“Are you alright Stiles?” Lydia called out.

 

“Stiles, get away from that creep!” Scott ordered.

 

“Stiles!” Erica, Boyd, Allison and Isaac shouted.

 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Stiles roared, suddenly furious.

 

To say it was effective was an understatement. Everybody immediately closed their mouth and some even flinched.

 

“What the fuck are you all doing here?” Stiles growled.

 

“We came to rescue you!” Scott declared.

 

Stiles glared at him.

 

“Rescue me from what? The only person who offered me a roof for the past days? Thanks, I kind of don’t need your fucking help, so show yourself out.” He said in an icy tone.

 

“Stiles.” Derek Growled out in warning.

 

“What are you even doing here Derek? When I asked you for help you told me I wasn’t pack, so shut it.”

 

“Stiles.” Said the Sheriff, his voice caught between mad and worried, “why …”

 

“Why what? Why didn’t I came home for days? You throw me out of the house without my phone charger, my car keys, or even a jacked and you were mad at me for something I wasn’t even responsible of. So sorry if I didn’t feel like I could come back.”

 

“We searched for you for days!” Scott cried out.

 

“It’s nice to know that even if we had an argument you still care, but it’s kind of not needed. I’m perfectly fine here”

 

Derek roared loudly.

 

“You’re going home!”

 

“Fuck off!”

 

“Stiles! You have to come home now! You can’t stay with a murder! ” shouted the Sheriff.

 

“He’s much more than that! He’s changed! He won’t hurt me, and he was the only one who helped me!” Stiles stubbornly cried back.

 

Peter’s eyes glowed and the pack growled.

 

“Why didn’t you come to us?” Erica asked, slightly hurt.

 

“It’s not like we’re friends, and I’m not pack anyway.” Stiles shrugged.

 

“That’s not true! You are!” Isaac whined. Boyd nodded seriously while Erica looked pinched and hurt.

 

“Well your Alpha said I wasn’t.” Stiles replied dryly.

 

Everyone in the room turned to glared at Derek.

 

“Enough!” The Alpha let his eyes shine as he launched himself at Stiles. He caught the teen’s waist and carried him fireman style, and turned towards the exit. The pack quickly got out of his way, while Stiles was shouting and trashing, trying to hit Derek.

 

“Let me go you absolute fucker! Asshole! I’ll kill you and use you as a furry rug! Nooooo! Let me go! Peter! Help!”

 

Peter grimaced.

 

“Not sure I can help without having my throat sliced out a second time Stiles.”

 

“Damn right.” Scott growled, shining his eyes at Peter.

 

Derek left the room, his precious package screaming bloody murder. The Sheriff followed closely, casting worried glances at his son, as he reassured the neighbours sticking their heads out of their apartment, alerted by the noises.

 

“Teenage drama really!” He faked laughed, and hurried after the werewolf.

 

 The rest of the teenagers tagged along, and the last one to get out was Jackson. He paused at the door, and turned towards Peter.

 

“Leave Stilinski alone.” He growled, his eyes shining and his fangs out.

 

Peter shined his eyes right back.


End file.
